Brilliant ideas sometimes... aren't.

Like chucking your keys off the fourth floor balcony.

"Toss them...."

"I'll come down and and let you in..."

"No. Toss them. But toss them hard so they don't land in the neighbor's lawn."

Don't tell a competitive person to toss anything hard.

You get a screaming, four-seam fastball at the face... and a slightly cracked gate clicker that now works forty percent of the time, every time.

(In hindsight, a gentle basket toss would've sufficed).

But then backwards ideas sometimes are. (Brilliant, that is).

Like ice cream for dinner.

"South Congress around 5? New place called Lick?"

"Lamar?"

"YES. That one. Been there?"

"No, but I hang out at the bar next door." (If only we could answer all life's questions that way).

So.... Lick. Delicious double entendre.

Their mission? Thrill patrons with inventive flavors crafted with local ingredients. They've been doing it (and doing it well) since October, so says thick black frames with the scoop. (I renege the 'new' adjective tacked onto initial reference).

Small, simple, pure. (Batches of artisan ice cream and storefront alike). Blackberry Lemon & Basil. Caramel Salt Lick. Spicy Coconut & Peanut, with a cayenne dusting. Like a karate kick to the throat.

Me on the left. Two Scoops McGee. Homemade waffle cone, blow-ing-my-mind... 

Ice cream for dinner. Like white after Memorial Day, totally acceptable. And even when it's not, it is. 

They call it the Texas Stop Sign.

That retro red emblem stamped with giant, white block letters.

But I'd bet a steak finger basket it's not the signage that's got you flipping the blinker for the next exit.

Nope... the siren song is of the soft-serve variety.

(The only "restaurant" in my mom's tiny West Texas hometown for years... she'll tell you all about summers worked, swirling & dipping cones).

A rule of thumb - the smaller the population, the greater the odds a Dairy Queen falls within county lines. (Doing the math in my head. Inversely proportional... right, nerds? Somebody dip back into eighth grade geometry and confirm that for me). 

But there's this one... this stray urban locale, a few blocks down the street... 

I motor past it twice a day. Don't give it much thought.  Until two days and three words ago. 

Confetti.

Cake.

Blizzard. 

Flashing before my eyes, in red neon lights... Blizzard of the Month, you minx. I want to spoon you down. Every last bite. And the only thing stopping me... is 127 grams of sugar. (If nutritional calculators could suck fat like they suck fun, we'd be in business). 

What's a sweet-toothed, sometimes-sort-of-health-conscious citizen to do?

CUPCAKE ADAPTATION. That's what.

Eat one. Eat two. Because look at how many sugary calories you're not ingesting.

Stealth rationale. Turning Confetti Cupcakes into health food.

How you like them sprinkles?

One-Bowl Confetti Cupcakes

1 box yellow cake mix
1 cup sour cream
1/3 cup vegetable oil
1/4 cup water
1/3 cup sugar
1/3 cup flour
3 eggs
1 teaspoon vanilla extract
1/2 teaspoon salt
1/2 cup rainbow jimmies (er, sprinkles)


Preheat the oven to 350 degrees F. Line your cupcake pans.

Mix all the ingredients together in the bowl of a standing mixer with a paddle attachment. Beat on low speed for 2 minutes. Scoop batter into cupcake liners (about halfway full) and bake for 12 to 14 minutes. Cool in the pan for a few, and then transfer to a wire rack to cool completely. Frost accordingly.




{Basic Vanilla Buttercream Recipe} 

A dessert with no name.

I unhinge the lid of the impenetrable cupcake carrier I'm lugging around, soccer-mom style. 

"What are those?"

I shrug. 

Chocolate and cookie dough and more chocolate. 

(And chocolate chips). 

(And peanut butter).

"Well, what do you call them?"

I shrug again. 

A fudge-y, cake-y, cookie dough-y triple decker orb? 

"I want the recipe for... those.... those things."

That, I can do.

With a tip of the cap to Love & Olive Oil and the Cookie Dough Lover's Cookbook - the Bible for those who dive greedily into dough and subscribe to the "oven optional" theory. (Un-furrow your brows and clink your beaters, salmonella-phobes. This recipe is egg-free and safe for bowl-licking). 

Eggless Chocolate Chip Cookie Dough

1 stick unsalted butter

1/2 c. granulated sugar

1/2 c. light brown sugar, packed

2 tablespoons milk or cream

1/2 teaspoon vanilla

1 1/4 c. flour

1/4 teaspoon salt

1/2 c. mini semisweet chocolate chips

In a large bowl, beat butter and sugars on medium speed until light and fluffy, 2 to 3 minutes. Mix in milk and vanilla. Stir in flour and salt and mix on low speed (or by hand) until incorporated. Stir in chocolate chips. Refrigerate up to three days.

+ 

{Chocolate Whoopie Pie Recipe, via Love & Olive Oil}

+ 

{Chocolate Peanut Butter Glaze Recipe - A jumble of ingredients and odd steps. Trust the process. It comes together to form the most ridiculous, satiny glaze} 

*Some assembly required.

**And if you concoct a clever name, holler. 

I fling open my computer to whine about technology failure and construction outside my window and accidentally buying cereal with raisins in it (I hate raisins)... and as my fingers fly... purging petty frustrations... I remember Einstein's. (Bagel purveyor, not theoretical physicist). 

The line, stacked out the door. The customers (myself included), grumbling about the snail's pace.

I shuffle to the front and place my order.

The lady behind the counter can barely see over it. Her plastic name tag says "Rose."

"Looks busy in here." I force a smile and try to make friendly.

"Busy for them," she nods toward the crew behind her - frantically toasting, schmearing, steaming, pouring.

A gap-toothed grin crosses her face...

"But me? I'm on a beach in a reclining chair, relaxing in the sun... And life is good."

She scoots a container of soy milk towards me, with weathered hands.

"For you? No charge."

"That's quite a deal, Rose."

But I'm not talking about the cup of coffee.

Jam-packed with blueberries and blackberries and alliteration. Buttermilk Berry Bundt Cake.

Let it roll off the tongue... Susie sells seashells... buttermilk berry bundt... yellow baby buggy bumper.

Is your mouth awake yet?

No?

Take a bite.

(I did. See that missing slice? Not for aesthetic appeal).

Breakfast, brunch, dessert... It's summertime on a fork.

(Clean your plate and yes, then you can dance through the sprinklers).

I took the liberty of adding a tablespoon of blueberry juice to jazz up the lemon glaze. I'm all about the colorrrrrr. (Minus the purple-stained fingers).



{Buttermilk Berry Bundt Cake Recipe adapted from Recipe Girl}

{Lemon Glaze Recipe via Martha}

I didn't like The Happiness Project. 

I plucked it from a New York Times Best Seller display, thumbed through a few pages and thought it'd be entertaining enough to pass the time at my gate at SFO.

That was November.

Call it bookworm's creed or what not... but if I start a book, I'll finish it.

Even if it takes five months of plodding through, begrudgingly picking up it in quiet moments... willing it to get better... rolling my eyes when I realize, four chapters later, it hasn't.

Today, by the pool, I committed to the final stretch and dug in.

Driven by the urge to clear it from my nightstand. Because a book isn't allowed on the shelf until it's been read cover to cover. An inexplicable rule. Strange, I know.

Maybe I was disappointed because I expected entertaining enlightenment... What I got was superfluous personal narrative.

It works as a blog. It began as a blog. That's what blogs are. A canvas for self-centered storytelling. Flecked with ego. Replete with anecdotes, yes.

I admire the year-long chronicle, but it irks me too. The crusade for happiness is kind of a subjective one. And while I struggle to qualify author (Gretchen Rubin) as guru, a handful of creased page corners are proof that some truths aren't lost on me...

"A common theme in religion and philosophy... is the admonition to live fully and thankfully in the present. So often, it's only after some calamity strikes that we appreciate what we had. 'There are times in the lives of most of us,' observed William Edward Hartpole Lecky, 'when we would have given all the world to be as we were but yesterday, though that yesterday had passed over as unappreciated and unenjoyed.'" 

"I try to remember not to judge people harshly, especially on the first or second encounter. Their actions might not reveal their enduring characteristics but instead reflect some situation they find themselves in. Forbearance is a form of generosity... 'Find explanations in charity' is a more holy way of saying 'cut people slack.'" 

And, powerfully concise...

"The days are long, but the years are short." 


Prepare to be gobsmacked... not with revelations, but nudging reminders.

Gratitude is contagious.